Page 16 of Our Daughter's Bones
Breath spiraled out of Mackenzie’s lungs. It wasn’t her father. She stepped back, almost losing her balance. Her chest pinched—a quick rush of relief followed by dread. The body could belong to Erica or Abby or perhaps someone else. It cut her deep realizing that she felt any relief at all. She didn’t want to get into trouble, even though she knew she deserved to.
“Angela can’t tell the age or cause of death right now. But there is a lot of tissue on those bones,” Becky said. “She’s been dead for a few months at least.”
It wasn’t Abby Correia either, not if there was that level of decomp. The knots pulsing through Mackenzie unwound. But she saw Nick’s face pale. The body could belong to Erica Perez.
“Becky… could it be Erica?”
“Nick, you know I can’t say anything—”
“I know!” Nick ran his hand through his hair. “But please. Just. Give me break here. What does Angela think?”
Becky pressed her lips in a thin line and gave him a curt nod.
“Shit!” Nick kicked a rock across the ground.
“Come in tomorrow. I’ll have more for you.” She gave him a pressing look and then nodded at Mackenzie. “That’s definitely not your kid. You can go home.”
Forensics started packing up the scene. The remains were sealed in boxes and carried to the van. The deputies collected the wooden sticks but left the crime tape up. Everyone began to leave.
Except for Nick. He sat on a boulder, facing away from Mackenzie. His shoulders were stiff, and he fiddled mindlessly with his keys, his knee bouncing like a ball. He had spent the last four months, since Bruce Stephens retired, searching for Erica Perez. Even though Erica’s identity wasn’t confirmed, Angela Weiss was right most of the time. Mackenzie had seen Angela accurately predict the age and gender from remains within a few minutes. One time it took her ten minutes to identify the victim as a swimmer who had broken his nose when he was an adolescent.
Mackenzie watched Nick’s back. She curled her fingers in a tight fist. She should leave, but she didn’t want to. Her feet were firmly rooted to the ground. They urged her to move forward.
Then her phone vibrated. It was Sterling, checking in on her. It was the reminder she needed to walk away from the man she had once called her best friend.
Eight
September 13
The scalding hot water was a soothing balm to Mackenzie’s skin. Steam rose around her and encased her in a bubble. Finally, her nerves had settled down. It was easier to breathe in this suffocating steam than it was the crisp September air.
But now fear had planted itself firmly in her mind. Had it been the wrong decision to come back to Lakemore? Should she have stayed in New York? Was Melody right all those years ago? She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw her mother’s face hovering inches away.
“Sweetheart! What are you doing?” Melody gasped and bent down.
Twelve-year-old Mackenzie sat under the shower curled up like a ball. Her nightshirt and shorts were drenched. She felt the heavy weight of her wet clothes pulling her down—like she was carrying tires. Her red hair stuck to the sides of her face. Water dripped down the tip of her nose. She rocked back and forth in a trance.
“Mackenzie, look at me!” Melody clasped her face. She registered her mother’s wide eyes and wrinkled forehead.
“We did a bad thing, Mom,” she whispered. “We did a bad thing. I’m so sorry.”
“No! No! No!” Melody clutched her shoulders and shook her. “It was self-defense. We had no choice. We talked about this, remember? Sometimes we have to do bad things to protect our loved ones.”
But Mackenzie’s brain was stuck, like a broken tape recorder. It played the image of scrubbing off dried blood with her fingernails and carrying fat ankles on a loop.
“My friends go there to play. I can’t go with them now.” Her chest heaved. “I can’t go there ever!”
Melody turned off the showerhead. Mackenzie didn’t stop rocking. Every jolt to her body as she bounced against the wall kept her tethered. Eventually, Melody put a hand behind Mackenzie’s head as a cushion.
“Would you like to go to New York and stay with your grandmother for a while?”
Mackenzie nodded faintly.
“You can be there for a school term, or a year. I have to stay here to deal with the authorities.”
Saliva dribbled out of the corners of Mackenzie’s mouth. She hadn’t remembered to swallow. Melody cleaned it gently. “Everything will be fine, sweetheart. You can leave as early as tomorrow. I’ll book you a ticket right now and take care of the school as well.”
“Will he follow me there too?”
